Lamb of Tartary

Lamb Of Tartary is the new restaurant in the space previously held by the much-loved Cottonopolis. It’s headed up by Shaun Moffat, who you almost certainly know from The Edinburgh Castle Pub in Ancoats. 

Shaun’s cooking is all about traditional British produce and cooking styles, with an added touch of alchemy. In his hands, chips aren’t just chips, they’re the chips your mum and dad made when you were growing up, made celestial. 

There’s a loose Middle Ages feel to the whole operation, not least with the name itself – it comes from an 11th-century term for – wait for it – a tree that grows sheep. The more you know. Name aside, the food and cooking techniques all feel connected to a kind of olden-times royal banquet – powerful, rich aromas float through the venue, swirling around the floor-to-ceiling plush curtains and opulent booths. 

First, oysters. Or to be precise, Carlingford rock oysters, blessed with a Yorkshire rhubarb mignonette. The rhubarb is an inspired addition, and all you jaded oyster-guzzlers should track these down, stat. 

Shaun’s Scotch egg is legendary, and rightly so. It’s precisely how it should be done: well-seasoned sausage meat, encasing a pleasingly soft orange yolk, sat on a generous blob of fenugreek mayonnaise, sprinkled with a few fried-up fenugreek leaves. A few local chefs have done excellent takes on the Scotch egg in recent years, but it’s the low-key inclusion of this lesser-spotted herb that elevates this particular iteration. 

Everything on the menu is tastefully British, showcasing the rich flavours, delightful textures and wonderful ingredients that we take for granted. Standout examples: a duo of miniature crumpets, topped with fresh, shredded brown crab meat and a creamy, tangy hollandaise sauce; slices of Yorkshire veal sausage with a signature brown sauce (surely the most criminally overlooked of all the sauces) on the side; and the pear, walnut, Garstang blue and radicchio salad. 

From the aromatic grill, a gloriously thick piece of monkfish tail, sourced fresh from the famous Brixham market, seared, charred and covered in a buttery, caper sauce. It’s divine, of course it is. 

Also prepared on the grill, the eponymous lamb – a Knutsford-reared Texel cross, to be specific. It’s the saddle chop, so served pink with a mouthwatering layer of fat, charred on the edges. It’s almost obscenely tender and comes with a sticky, semi-sweet jus – that further justifies its name over the door. For the full impact, add a portion of the triple-cooked chips. Heck, add two. 

You’ll find a similar level of quality in the drinks menu, which features two old-school ‘chapters’ for cocktails – one plant and root, the other seed and fruit. It’s largely based around the classics, elevated, with some nicely memorable ideas. The Clover Club and Paloma are well-executed and delicious, but with summer looming, it’d be remiss of us not to mention the bright and breezy Garibaldi, from the low-ABV section. 

It’s a testament to Manchester’s importance on the global culinary scene that we have one of the UK’s top chefs, Shaun Moffat, right here. Over the past few years, this South African-born culinary genius has transformed Edinburgh Castle into a gold-standard destination. The smart money is on him doing the same here.